


Let's Leave Together (Now I'm Ready)

by Khateeah



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, First Time, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:17:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khateeah/pseuds/Khateeah
Summary: After the kiss they shared in front of the world, Yuuri only knows one thing for certain: that somehow, Viktor Nikiforov has become much more than just his coach.





	

_Viktor?_   
  
Yuuri’s fist hovers an inch from the door of Viktor’s bedroom. He’d meant to call his coach’s name, but the absence of an answer tells him he’s choked yet again, lost his courage even as his throat bobbed with the words he’d tried to say. He swallows hard. He won’t turning back this time. Determined, Yuuri steels his will. His eyes blink slowly closed, then open, his fingers curling tight where they float clenched before the door.

He finds his voice, and knocks. “Viktor?”  
  
“Come in,” Viktor’s reply is almost instant, his voice a soft monotone muffled through the door. A pang of guilt prickles hot under Yuuri’s skin. He can tell he’s interrupted Viktor before he’s even opened the door.   
  
Yuuri exhales softly. He pushes the door open and takes a hesitant step inside, cursing himself as his suspicions are confirmed and a focused Viktor draws into view. Dressed in one of the inn’s olive-green robes, Viktor’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, face framed by the wires dangling from his earbuds, his eyes fixed on the screen of his laptop. His hunched form is illuminated by the of the screen of his laptop, casting a cool glow across the pale skin of his chest visible between the loose-hanging folds of his robe. His narrow brow is knitted in concentration, but relaxes quickly as his gaze floats upward, eyes lighting up with a wide grin as he plucks one of the earbuds from his ears.   
  
“Yuuri!” Viktor beams, throwing his arms wide in welcome. Yuuri can't help the smile that pulls at his lips at the way his coach’s enthusiasm, easy and unashamed, begins to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.   
  
“H-hi, Viktor,” Yuuri’s voice comes out meek, softer than he’d intended. His cheeks fill with heat, averting his eyes as the toes of one socked foot turn inwards, rubbing absently over the textured weave of the tatami mat covering the floor.   
  
“It’s late,” Viktor says, still beaming, but his smile fades, pausing when he notices Yuuri’s fidgeting. “You’re nervous.”   
  
It isn’t a question.   
  
“Yeah,” the word rushes past Yuuri’s lips in a gust of breath. He’s relieved that Viktor’s spared him from saying as much, grateful at least for the moment of his coach’s uncomfortably accurate knack for reading his emotions.   
  
Yuuri’s eyes flicker cautiously up. He’s surprised to see that Viktor’s smile has returned, softer than before but every bit as genuine. His heart flutters when Viktor’s chin tips back in a short nod, beckoning him toward the bed.

“Come. I’ve got something I want you to hear,” Viktor’s voice is gentle, and Yuuri’s legs move automatically in response, moving him towards the bed in spite of the self-conscious heat rippling through his gut at the invitation. Calm and anxious, happy and uncertain, Yuuri feels strangely numb when he reaches the bed and sinks to a seat, balancing almost precariously at the very edge of Viktor's mattress.   
  
“Listen,” Viktor scoots closer, picking up his loose earbud and pressing it into Yuuri’s ear.

 _It’s still warm._ Yuuri sucks in a soft breath, swallowing the shiver that threatens to course up his spine at the unexpectedly intimate sensation. His eyes flick anxiously towards Viktor, relieved when he sees that he doesn't seem to have noticed. Those soft blue eyes are still fixed on his laptop, sliding the cursor across the screen to rewind the track.   
  
And then Viktor clicks play, and this time Yuuri can’t suppress the shiver that grips his core as a choir of gentle voices crescendo from silence, filling his ears with a sweet, haunting harmony. His eyes drift shut, lips spreading into a languid smile as he abandons himself to the melody sinking deep into his bones.   
  
Viktor’s eyes stay locked on Yuuri. It’s indulgent and he knows it, how much he’s enjoying watching Yuuri’s enraptured oblivion, the way the magnificent complexity of the music provides the perfect serenade for such a simple, private scene. His plan is working, and Yuuri’s lost, hopelessly submerged in sound, just as he’d known he would be. He’d known, because inside Yuuri resides a soul, radiant and rare, inspired and captivated by music in a way that’s precisely like his own, the same soul he'd first glimpsed from thousands of miles away as he sat in his living room, entranced by the tiny figure of Yuuri Katsuki twirling across the screen of his phone.

Viktor shivers, recalling in perfect detail the way he felt watching Yuuri’s rendition of his championship program, so gripping he couldn’t blink, couldn’t risk missing even a fraction of a second of that emotion, that _feeling_ born so obviously of his own and blossoming into _so much more…_ He knows he’ll never forget the moment that brilliant spark of inspiration hit him, the guiding light he’d been yearning for to pull him from the darkness of endless malaise.

And now, he’s never felt so lucky. Even off the ice, Yuuri’s beauty is unmatched, and Viktor can’t help but smile as he’s transfixed by the tiny, flowing movements Yuuri makes in time with the music. It’s raw and graceless, and yet somehow it only adds to Yuuri’s innocent allure. Here, alone on his bed, hair mussed and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, Yuuri’s beauty is candid, intimate, and Viktor knows he’ll never be able to get enough.

By the time the song draws to its end, Viktor’s cheeks are ready to combust.

“Wow…” Yuuri whispers in awe, breathless, wide eyes trailing up to meet Viktor’s gaze. “Who… what is that?” he asks, squinting at the Cyrillic letters scrawled across the screen of Viktor’s laptop.   
  
“Oh!” Viktor exclaims as he’s pulled from his daze, realizing Yuuri’s squinting wasn't for lack of his glasses. “It’s Lauridsen. _O Magnum Mysterium._ Beautiful, isn’t it?”   
  
“Yeah,” sighs Yuuri before sucking his lip between his teeth. He's not used to this. He’s not used to this sort of natural understanding, this _connection_ he feels humming between them like electricity, gripping him like a magnet and urging him closer. He resists the compulsion, but he still can't stop the sudden twitch in his fingers where they rest atop Viktor’s sheets, as if his body is trying to reach out against his will, to draw closer to the man sitting beside him. The same man who’s proven time after time that he’ll neither push Yuuri too hard nor shy away, but meet him precisely where he is… even if he himself hasn’t yet realized where that is.   
  
“Yuuri,” Viktor coos, raising a hand to Yuuri’s cheek. The skin beneath his fingertips is impossibly soft, and the warmth there growing as Yuuri’s cheeks burst into color. Viktor huffs a small breath. His palm glides over the curve of Yuuri’s cheek and back, fingertips brushing over his temple to tuck a strand of loose hair behind the shell of his ear.

Yuuri’s stomach lurches at the sudden, tender touch. His conscience screams on instinct for him to break the contact, but he's frozen in place, startled by the unmistakable presence of something stronger, something deeper keeping him rooted to the spot. It swells inside him, and the mood shifts, the noise in his head fading to silence. His breaths shorten to shallow little gasps, and suddenly all he knows, all he feels is the warmth on his cheek, and Viktor’s gorgeous smile dominating his field of view.

The last of Yuuri’s shock is blasted to bits by the sweet, electric touch flooding his body, his soul with the same love, the same faith Viktor’s had in him all along. And Yuuri yields to it. Shyly, he tilts his cheek, nuzzling cautiously into the palm cupped against his skin. His eyes flutter shut, and a tiny puff of air sighs softly from between his lips.

He isn’t afraid anymore. The realization comes out of nowhere, so sudden and simple it makes Yuuri laugh.

It was the kiss. Has to be the kiss, _the kiss_ he knows will live on in infamy forever. The kiss they shared on the ice, _on live television,_ in front of hundreds of thousands of people. That one, single kiss that turned out to be the wrecking ball he needed to smash through the last of his walls. And he knows there's no way he'd have survived it if it hadn’t  been for Viktor, his idol and his coach, sweeping him into his arms and anchoring him to earth as the dust settled around them.

He feels safe with Viktor, Yuuri realizes, and the smile on his face shows it, languid and content, framed by glowing, petal pink cheeks.  
  
"Viktor..." Yuuri’s voice is barely a whisper as he reaches up, fingers lightly tracing over the back of Viktor's hand before slipping between Viktor's own. He turns his head, eyelids falling shut as he presses a feather-light kiss to the center of Viktor's palm. "Thank you."   
  
Viktor's heart swells full enough to burst.

"You're welcome, Yuuri…” Viktor’s voice wavers as he beams, unashamed, grinning like an idiot. He knows there's no hope of hiding just how smitten he is with the man seated on the edge of his bed, and yet even if he could, hiding how he feels from Yuuri is the last thing he'd want to do. He loves Yuuri, he realizes. He’s loved him since the moment he’d first watched him skate his routine.

And now he knows, _feels,_ that Yuuri just might love him too.


End file.
